


The Past Bites

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, BAMF!John, BAMF!Mary, BAMF!Sherlock, Because I had a dream, Death, F/M, I'm sorry?, Light BDSM, Manipulation, My OTPs, Parenthood, Physical Torture, Series 4 AU, Sexual Content, Violence, and I know where this one is going now ;), babysitter!Hudson, no child will be harmed, no seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:57:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1228987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something is going on in the Watson household. John is getting anxious and Mary is worried. </p><p>Sherlock is in an actual relationship. Or is he?</p><p>Mycroft is not as smart as he likes to think, he misses things. But that's where Greg comes in. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back and in form. I have the start, the middle and the end. All I need is the chapters ;) 
> 
> I'm posting as I write one chapter, and save another as I'm going so this should be finished soon. 
> 
> It's another WIP and I know I said I'd save before posting, and I am. I'm just doing couple of chapters at a time. 
> 
> This will be finished, that's a promise. 
> 
> Have fun and feel free to give me a kick if I'm starting to slip xxx

The night was just a perfect match to the shadow's mood. Stormy. Lightening lit up London's skyline, followed closely by a crash of thunder. The Earth surrounding the shadow shook under such a tremendous attack by Mother Nature. It was beautiful to watch, hidden in the dark of an ally-way, the shadow smirked and turned its head towards the sky just as the rain poured. It was heavy that night; so heavy that it bounced upward from the force as it met the ground, with the lack of a wind, the shadow was drenched in a second but it didn't care. Not when its eyes regained its targets on the opposite side of the now water logged street. 

Sitting together by the window, also gazing at the night's storm was a couple. Newly married was the shadow's information. And it didn't do it wrong either. The way their bodies where turned to one another, hands clasped tightly as their eyes flickered from the storm to one another. The shadow didn't stop the sneer that formed in that moment. 'Mary', the information had said. What a boring name. The shadow was disappointed. After everything it had heard of her, it found her to be a boring citizen, in a boring marriage with a boring man. 

The shadow heaved a sigh. It had research to continue, now that it found its target. Or maybe targets, plural. It all depended upon what the shadow could dig up. 

***

In the restaurant, hidden in warmth on their date night, Mary and John Watson watched in fascination as London was battered by a brilliant summer storm. As they watched, neither noticed a slim figure of a woman as it left its hide away among the shadows in the ally-way opposite. And neither knew of the web that had begun to weave that night.


	2. Fright Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, someone gets a fright this night.

Alright then. Maybe this John bloke wasn't so boring after all, the mysterious shadow finally concluded after restlessly researching up on the newly married Marry Watson. This John was a man to watch out for by the sounds of his blog; he can be deathly loyal and that's something she didn't want getting in her way. Colateral damage was something she couldn't give a shit about, as long as she reached her goal in the end. And her goal ... Well, let's just say that the past always comes back to bite you in the arse. 

****

John and Mary waited out the storm in the restaurant, both finally glad of another night's peace together. They haven't had much since Sherly was born just over three years ago, and they had stuck to a date night religiously. 

"I wonder what concoction the duo have cocked up for us tonight." Mary said softly, with a hint of warm affection, as the rain lessened outside. 

"Well, you would agree to allow her to stay with him every week." John laughed a little. "Last week it was melted crayons." 

Mary chuckled and motioned for the bill. "Well, Sherlock said she wanted to make her own colours."

"He's a bad influence." John joked and fished out his wallet. It was his turn to pay this week anyway, and Mary didn't argue. 

With the bill sorted and both ready, they headed out and back towards Baker Street. About four years ago, both Mary and John purchased a property in the same street, but not next door. The flat opposite worked well enough. That way Mary can work at her own Doctor's surgery, John can work his cases with Sherlock and they had numerous babysitters. Everyone was happy. 

"Sherlock's not that bad. He's her Godfather after all. And he's actually taken a shine to her." Mary picked up on the conversation from the restaurant as they walked hand in hand. 

"It only took him a few months." John laughed at the memory and Mary joined in. He liked this, the easy going nature of their marriage. Finally laying to rest their troubles that they had at the start. 

John still didn't know Mary's past, he never asked and he never will. He accepted it now, though it was a struggle at first. They argued then they made up, then argued again. But to John; the sex wa worth it. 

\--

Both John and Mary entered 221B Baker Street to be met with a screaming toddler, a yelling Sherlock and a harassed Mrs Hudson. 

"Oh my dears," Mrs Hudson greeted them as they both rushed ahead without a backward glance. 

John was first through the flat and stopped abruptly. The sight before him shocked him. Mary ran into John's back and gasped. 

The screaming toddler was sat in the middle of the room while Sherlock was in the kitchen, gripping a young homeless (well he looked homeless) man by the collar. 

"HOW DEAR YOU!" Sherlock was yelling as he manoeuvred the young man towards the exit and Mary was rushing her child as John looked on in shock. "OUT!!"

"Oh Sherly," Mary cooed as she lifted her daughter and held her close, soothing her in the way mother's knew how. 

John made his way to Sherlock, arms folded and looked slightly angry and shocked. "Explain," he gritted out to Sherlock. 

"I was teaching Sherly here how to neutralise acid .." At both John's and Mary's glares he quickly added .."Nothing corrosive. I'm not an idiot. Anyway, we worked in the living room and I had my back turned from the kitchen, Sherly was facing the kitchen. I was so engrossed in the lesson that when I knew someone had entered without permission was when she screamed." Sherlock was still trying to calm his anger as he made his way to his God daughter, who had drifted off in her Mother's arms. 

"Fair enough," John said with a tired sigh. "But why? Why would a homeless youth break into your home, of all places?"

Sherlock shrugged, "I don't know. And I hate not knowing."

Mary sighed a little and made her way to the exit, John followed behind. They said their goodbyes and left for home, thoughtful music from the violin accompanied them on their exit. Sherlock was thinking, that was never good for the one on the receiving end. 

***

"Well!?" Snarled the woman to the homeless man. She would never stoop so low, but needs must. 

"Scared the little rat. Sherlock can half throw a fit though." The homeless youth replied, greedily taking the heroine that was offered, not even knowing it was way too much as he injected it into his vein. 

"So, they do have a child. And Sherlock has softened. Maybe it's time to move." The woman just watched as the homeless man slipped from high to frantic to dead in a few moments. She loved watching. And she'll love it even more. Once she got close enough that is. Time to go out and play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My hands are cramping up. I'm using my phone. But there will be more soon. I promise


	3. The Aftershocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reaction
> 
> And sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I managed one more ;) have fun

Sherlock was agitated, even hours after his friends had left. Yes, all three of them were his friends now. They had to be. They've been through enough together for him to concede that to himself. But still, why would a homeless youth enter his home? The youth had been on the streets for years, so he had heard of Sherlock no doubt. It was obvious that the youth was in need of a hit, the blood shot eyes and the shaking brought up memories Sherlock would rather delete. So why would an addict homeless youth break in and scare his god child? Not looking for a hit here, or a warm bed. Or even food for that matter. The youth had eaten before he came around uninvited. So why? 

Did someone bribe him? Dare him? Force him? Challenge him? Was this the start of a game? Or was this just a joke?

The unknowing bothered him more than he would ever admit and so he texted around his ever available network for answers. And he waited. What he got back was a little disappointing but quenched his thirst to know. 

-I urd a dare boss /Ant/

-Tha wa Leon. 19 he was. Got dared to. Wa betted tha he cudnt break in. Always liked to show off Leon did. /Karlos/ 

-Old Mags dared. /Young Mags/

Most of the texts consisted of the same information. Sherlock shrugged and threw the phone onto the table. His thoughts drifted to the now silent flat as he slowly began to drift off, not really focussing on the new name; Old Mags. 

***

John was hovering at the door to Sherly's room, watching as she slept peacefully. He was glad she didn't get his knack for having nightmares of the so called scary things in life. He was so consumed in watching his daughter sleep, that when Mary wrapped her arms around his waist, he jumped a little, making Mary chuckle into his neck. 

"She's a tough cookie John. She'll be fine. That junkie was probably looking for a rush. Or something. Sherlock will know. Or he probably does already." Mary whispered softly, making John turn to face her with a small smile. 

"Yeah." John sighed, finally wrapping his arms around his wife. "You're right. As usual."

Mary moved back a bit with a grin, squeezed John's backside before moving away completely. "Of course I am." She winked and turned away, swaying her hips in the way that she knew John loved. She knew John needed a distraction tonight, and she'll happily give it to him. 

"Oh, you're a wicked woman." John groaned playfully, closing Sherly's door quietly and moved to follow his wife, grabbing her arm and moving swiftly to turn her, then pin her up against the wall in the hallway of their home. 

His free hand moved just as fast, catching her other wrist and pinning it above her head with the first and clasped them in his left hand, allowing his right to wonder to her hip. His eyes twinkled playfully as he leaned forward to nip at his wife's bottom lip. "You tease." He whispered, moving his lips to her neck. 

"You love it." She gasped as he nipped the skin just below her ear. That always made her melt. 

Her legs opened a little of their own accord and John's free hand wondered down her exposed thigh. He loved the dresses his wife wore on date nights, easy access he called them. He pressed himself gently against her, ensuring she was pinned to the wall as his lips and teeth worked at her neck, and his hand moved high beneath her dress. 

Mary let out a quiet groan as she felt John's hand against her leg, feeling it inch slowly closer to her heat made her breath speed up and her eyes closed. She tilted her head back slightly and began to feel a light throbbing between her legs. John knew her buttons, knew where to nip on her neck, knew just how to slowly wind her up, making her wet, but not begging. Not yet. 

Finally, his palm hit home and he squeezed lightly and sucked on Mary's neck hard. She had to bite her lip to stop her from moaning too loud. They were still close to Sherly's room. Her hips began to slowly grind as John's palm tensed and then relaxed against her cunt. She couldn't help it. 

Then he stopped and moved away. 

Mary whined at the loss and moved to cup his erection hard, making John groan. 

They stared at each other for a second, eyes blazed with love, lust and need. Then John finally spoke. 

"Three seconds to be downstairs and ready." He spoke quickly, his hands moving towards his tie as Mary shot off down the stairs and towards their bedroom, giggling and stripping along the way, John following close behind her. 

\--

Mary was naked and wanting by the time John came into their room, also naked and hard. Their clothes where in his arms and he dropped them at the sight of his wife. He groaned as he climbed on the bed and crawled above her, quickly latching onto her harden nipple with his lips and sliding two fingers straight inside her heat. 

Mary moaned and latched onto the headboard. John's no nonsense technique always had her keening for him. And tonight was John's distraction. And fucking hell, she was loving it. 

"John," she moaned, moving her hips, fucking herself on his two fingers. John groaned into her chest and lifted his head up to watch her face. 

"You like that?" He half growled and half moaned, moving to thrust in a third finger. His free hand moved to cup her left breast and squeezed. "How about now?"

"Fuck .. Yes .. More," Mary slammed her hips as John thrusted his fingers harshly. They loved this, the both of them. 

"Maybe, as a punishment for teasing earlier ..." John withdrew and rolled onto his back. Mary whined again an stared at John. "You should do the work."

John stared back, eyes almost black with arousal as he watched his wife straddle his waist. Both hands moved to rest agaist her thighs as her hand covered his erection. She wasted no time in sliding onto him, moaning in satisfaction at being filled. John swore loudly and tilted his head up, a hand moving to bring Mary's head down for a lust crushing kiss. 

They both moved as one; John had a hand in Mary's hair, another on her breast, squeezing and pinching while she gripped the headboard and rolled her hips. Their moans blended into one as they moved faster, harder, together, climbing higher and higher until their worlds turned white and they crashed together in orgasmic bliss.


	4. The Client

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Lydia

The Mysterious woman was ready for battle. She had her feelers drifting out into the world of Mary Watson, unravelling her life, thread by thread. It was delightful, seeing all the black and white CCTV images of her, her daughter and her husband. Sometimes even the tall and lanky, and somewhat familiar detective was seen hovering close by her. Her little unit. Replacing the old one. By the looks of this group, neither knew the extent to which Little Mrs Mary can go to. revenge was sweet yes, but it was better when it was well planned through. She didn't want to end up like all the others who had tried to follow that woman. She didn't want to end up like Moriarty either. That's what happens when nothing is planned correctly. You die. And this woman, this Shadow, does not intend to die. She intends to bring Mary's world down, like she did to hers. But not the child. The Shadow never stooped so low to hurt a child physically. 

 

 

 As the Shadow starred at the images, her plan formed in her mind. A little red herring to take her off the scent. Make it out to be just another game. No one would know. Time to play.

 

***

 

Sherlock woke to the sound of the door bell frantically buzzing downstairs. He growled loudly as he pushed himself off the couch and wrapping his falling red robe around him tightly. Obviously Ms Hudson was not in, other wise she would have let the infuriating noise maker in already. With another huff, Sherlock marched down the stairs and pulled the door open wide, his best glare at the ready. He was about to bring out the best insult he could think of at that moment, he hated being woken up so abruptly, and he hadn't had his coffee. 

 

 But the words got stuck in his throat as his body betrayed him. Again. Despite what people may think, Sherlock has a specific type of woman. Not The Woman. Her mind was attractive, that was all. But the woman standing on his door step was everything he liked in a woman. She was as tall as him, her eyes a blazing hazel; so deep he could drown in them. Her complexion was not covered in makeup, but just enough to outline the sharp angles of her face. Her body was slim, slender and nothing too much On top. No distractions. Something simple and natural and instantly beautiful, especially the thin framed glasses that hung on her nose. Those made her hazel eyes gleam brighter and look even deeper. All to, Sherlock took in within the first three seconds, and for the woman standing on the door, it was enough for her.

 

"I know it's early, you have just woken up, that much is clear to see. The flush in your cheeks and the dilation of your pupils could imply tiredness and annoyance. Either that or you get terribly endorsed in morning arrousal, like normal men?" The woman spoke, her arms crossed tightly against her thin stomach as she shifted a little.

 

Nervous. Sherlock thought, and finally he gave himself a mental shake and cleared his throat. She was smart too. Mycroft would have a field day. But no! This one his his. 

 

He swirled round dramatically, cursing himself that he couldn't pull his collar up as he went back up the stairs. If this woman was as smart and observant as she made out to be, then she would follow. And Sherlock was once more not disappointed as he heard the door close and the foot steps on s stairs. This was going to be interesting. Or so he hoped.

 

***

 

The living room was more welcoming than she had first thought. She had entered  in behind the tall detective and, she would have been lying if she had said that she didn't enjoy the view on the way up the stairs. She made herself comfortable on the couch, not the offered chair and pulled out a brown folder.

 

"My name is Lydia, and for the past couple of weeks, someone has been posting a picture through my door daily. The writing is male, probably a doctor. Maybe not, I'm no good at analysing writing, but it is a bit of a rough and rushed scrawl. I follow the blog, both of them, so I know who is in the pictures, what I need to know. Is why?" And she handed the file over and watched As Sherlock took them, avoiding making any contact with her skin at all. She couldn't help but wonder why in the end. Isn't it obvious that she was attracted to him too? She understood the signs and she saved him earlier with her quick speech, but what she saw him when he answered the door, should have been mirrored in her own face. 

 

She had to give herself a mental slap as she realised Sherlock was speaking, but not looked at her once.

 

"A man's writing yes. Actually looks identical to my own. But with stupid mistakes of course. Whoever sent this had hoped you would come to me. But yes. Why you? And why send you CCTV images of me and my friends. Together. There doesn't seem to be anyone in particular To be the main focus point. At least Sherly is hardly seen. They're not interested in her. That's good." Sherlock put the images on the table and leaned back in his chair, taking on his thinking pose. A riddle? A puzzle? The start of a game? But why was Lydia so important? Maybe someone knew his type? Maybe she was a distraction after all?

 

"Well!?" Lydia finally spoke up after waiting for five minuets in silence. "Will you take my case? And keep me posted? I would like to know what is so interesting about me and these ... Images." 

 

It was clear to Lydia that she would get nothing out of the lanky git before her and she sighed loudly, moving to stand. "Fine. Call me!" She spoke with annoyance and put a card on the arm of Sherlock's chair, ensuring her fingers lightly brushed against his silk covered arm, then left before she caught Sherlock's reaction.

 

\--

 

if she turned, if she looked back, she would have seen Sherlock shiver gently and his eyes followed her and a soft grin was on his face. He defiantly thought the back was just as pleasant as the front.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't think of chapter names now so .... Blah to it ;) x

Sherlock was still engrossed in his mind palace, contemplating those images that Lydia had brought to his attention. He didn't notice Greg enter, followed by Mycroft and John. It was Greg's annoying tone that brough Sherlock into the room.

 

 

"My! I thought we agreed. No spying on people!" The images were clasped in Greg's hand until John took them from him and quickly glanced through them. He noticed the handwriting on each page, and his blood froze in his veins.

 

 

"Sherlock. Why do these images have _your_ writing on them!?" John was just as agitated then, glaring at Sherlock and shaking those images in his face. Each image had the words; _**Did you miss me? And Unity never really lasts does it?**_

 

 

_"_ Obviously it is not Sherlock's writing but someone has gone through a lot of trouble to make it look like his. And for your information Greg, these are not my images. Or rather, they shouldn't be, but I will look into this matter immediately." As Mycroft spoke, he was tapping away on his phone, his damn umbrella hooked onto his arm.

 

 

All this is going on in Sherlock's vision, but the only thing he has managed to grasp a hold of is Lestrade's attitude and sentiment towards his brother. The reality of it all makes him sick. He screws up his face in disgust and huffs loudly, gaining the attention of everyone in the room.

 

 

"Oh do grow up Sherlock." Mycroft scolds before bidding his usual retreat, taking the images with him, muttering something about official business and rolling heads. John looked from Mycroft's retreating form, Greg's stunned and flushed features then to Sherlock's _if looks could kill, the world would die a thousand times look._

 

 

 

"Wait ... What have I missed now?" John looked a little put out. Sherlock couldn't help but snigger softly. He knew John hated missing things as much as Sherlock hated not knowing things.

 

 

"As always John; you see but you do not observe. And this is not the problem right now." Sherlock lifted himself up from his position on the couch and began to pace the room. "Earlier, a young woman came to me with these images. She had been receiving them daily for a while now and despite her best efforts and skills, she could not understand why she was receiving them. Hence them being in my possession or rather, they were before my interfering, nosey brother came over. As for the writing; Mycroft was correct. It is not my writing but it is as close as anyone has gotten to my writing before. The worrying thing is, almost five years ago I was facing exile. Until one message, from one person, infiltrated every social and media networks around London. And apparently they're back once more."

 

 

 

Sherlock never stopped for a breath, and when he finally finished, he turned to see both Lestrade's and John's face pale. He sighed softly and turned to face them both his face smoothing out into his serious look.

 

 

 

"I promise to get to the bottom of this. John, I ensure your family us safe. Just look at your wife." Sherlock smirked a little and heard John's nervous chuckle.

 

 

"Yeah. You're right, as always. Were do we start?" John moved to take his seat and Sherlock faced Lestrade.

 

 

"Lestrade, go keep my brother company and keep me updated." Sherlock quickly added ... "About the images! I don't need to know of my brother's distractions!"

 

 

 

 

Lestrade turned a bright red and left the flat, grumbling about the bloody Holmes's on his way out. 

Sherlock turned back to John, noticing his wide eyed look. "Are they ... You know ...?" He asked Sherlock carefully.

 

 

"If you mean Lestrade and my brother and are they romantically and sentimentally involved then yes. Yes they are and that us not important right now. Right now we need to visit Lydia and gather more data, there's nothing else we can do until we hear back from Lestrade." Sherlock moved to his room to change quickly, firing off a text to Lydia at the same time to meet at Angelo's. Maybe he'll eat while he was there. Who knows? But he does want to look good. And he can't understand why. 

***

The Mysterious Woman was full of glee. The images had been sent and phase one was kicking off. Distractions can be beautiful in the end.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's see how Mycroft and Lestrade work together shall we?

Mycroft entered his office, twirling his umbrellalike in that way that everyone around him knew he was agitated and should not be disturbed. Which is a good too, Mycroft didn't employ idiots. He refused to. If anyone showed even the smaller ounce of stupidity, they would be fired and sworn to secrecy. If they refused, the. They simply disappeared. It was a tiresome job, but someone had to ensure the safety of the country. Which was why this new puzzle worried him more than it should. Someone had used his CCTV software that he had installed himself, to spy on those that he had chosen to care about, and that was a high admission on Mycroft's part. A Holmes would never admit to sentiment, but these were members of his family. Yes, his family and he would bring down every building in London to protect them.

He knew to expect computer equipment, status reports and everything he needed to go over this problem, but what he did not expect to see when walking into his sanctuary was Gregory Lestarde, leaning back in the visitor's chair, sipping at a glass of whiskey on the rocks. It was as erotic as it was surprising and Mycroft had to mentally slap himself and pull himself together. Clearing his throat softly as he made his way to his chair, removing his waist coat and placing his umberella next to him as he sat, he looked at Greg with a raised eyebrow.

"I would like to make it clear, we are here to work. No doubt my brother has employed you to help me. These images are from my area and I want to know who or rather what has accessed them. And I want to know why. We cannot get distracted. Understand Gregory?" Mycroft spoke softly but using Greg's Christian name was sure to get the point across quickly. 

"Spoil sport." Greg agreed lightly and gave a little wink as he rose and moved towards Mycroft, leaning in close to his lover. "So, where do we start?" 

 

\---

They worked for hours, trying to access the software and to understand who had authorised the freeze frames and to try and figure out what it all meant and who the target was intended to be. During that time, Mycroft noticed that Greg became closer, breathing softly against his neck as he leaned over to view the information on the screen and on the reports. Greg was also resting an arm around Mycroft's waist and the warmth was becoming rather distracting.

"Greg, we need to solve this problem. You are being distracting." Mycroft huffed softly and tried to shuffle away a little, but Greg stood his ground.

"Myc, we've been at this for hours," He sighed tiredly, "and all we've found out is that a virus had entered the system but was quickly wiped out. It was fast and didn't do much damage and didn't leave a trace. You're getting all tensed up now, you need to relax." As he spoke, his hands has moved to rest against Mycroft's shoulda and gently began to rub.

Mycroft tried to shift away but Greg never let up so he gave into it. He relaxed into his Detective's touch and sighed gently. His face turned towards Greg's just as he had leaned over him. Their lips touched lightly at first, then quickly became heated. Greg shifted until he was sat against Mycroft's knees, Mycroft arms wrapped tightly around Greg, keeping him as close as possible. 

They got lost within themselves, kissing, grinding and moaning. Mycroft's arms tightened as his hips shift upward against Greg's and he moaned gently into his lover's mout before breaking away gently. They were both breathing heavily, looking into each other's eyes before Mycroft finally spoke.

"As beautiful and fun this may be Greg. We cannot do this hear. Think of my employees." Mycroft's voice was full of lust, his raging erection was pressed tightly against his trousers. "And I would hate to mess up my new suit."

Greg whined and shifted, causing both of their erections to rub against the other. Mycroft couldn't help it, he lost all self control in that very moment. "On second thoughts ..." Mycroft went into a wild arousal frenzy, shifting to release Greg from him, lifting him onto the table and getting rid of the terrible trousers quickly.

Greg was groaning, Mycroft was pulling at his own trousers, releasing his own raging erection when there was a knock on the door. Greg growled and swore, Mycroft turned to the door and picked up the closest object to him, which was Greg's empty glass and threw it to the offending wood.

"I'm busy!" He yelled in frustration as the glass shattered. There was a soft squeal on the other side and a scuffling of shifting feet. 

"Now Greg, where were we?" Mycroft grinned wickedly before driving his dick into Greg's unprepared arse. It was tight, it was hot and he knew Greg loved it. If his noises were anything to go by anyway. 

The sex against the desk was fast, relentless and over rather quickly with Greg coming a lover Mycroft's clean shirt and Mycroft emptying himself soon after. 

\--

Moments late found both Greg and Mycroft, slouching on the floor, fully dressed and smoking away. Greg leaned into his lover with a stupid smirk on his face and Mycroft was lost in his thoughts, until something occurred to him ...

"Why would a virus attact the CCTV software and then leave without taking anything and leaving nothing? Unless that was a diversion. The images mean nothing but the messages, the writing. That means something. The client of Sherlock's is nothing but a messenger. Or rather, they could be more. They could be the target, the messages are meant for the client." Mycroft rose quickly, grabbing his phone and fired off a text to his brother while Greg just relaxed out on the floor. He was used to this. He had to be. After all, Mycroft was a Holmes and his mind would always be on the puzzle, even if it was distracted for a while, it always worked on the puzzle.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get back to Angelo's ;)

Angelo was as happy to see Sherlock and John as he always is. Grinning maddly, arms open wide and he invades their personal space, but he doesn't embrace them. He just grips both their shoulders in welcome. 

"Boys!" Angelo boasted loudly. "Welcome! How's the little Watson?" He asked as he rushed them to their obvious table. 

"Hello again, and she's fine, thanks for asking." John laughed lightly. Angelo always had a knack of making anyone giggle. 

So when he left the boys to their table while he went to welcome a nervous young woman into his restaurant, it was no wonder she relaxed a little and smiled at his over-excited ways. 

"So, what's such a youngling like you, doing in a place like this," Angelo grinned winningly. "Not that I'm complaining mind. A pretty face as well as new business is always the way forward my dear." He even winked and that's when the young woman relaxed and smiled softly. 

She was wearing a simple, figure hugging summer dress with sandles and a light jacket around her shoulders. The colours were not too bright, just a gentle mix of orange and yellows, blending into one another. 

"I'm here to see Sherlock." The young woman fiddled with her handbag that was held tightly in her hands. Yes defiantly anxious and nervous. Angelo grinned brighter. A little candy on Sherlock's arm can never hurt. 

"This way Miss." He took the lady's arm gently and guided her over to his boys. "Sherlock. John. Your date." 

"Oh ... I'm not their ..." Angelo vanished, leaving the young lady stuttering and blushing behind him. 

\--

"John, this is Lydia. Our client." Sherlock quickly introduced the nervous woman to John as he stood and moved to help her into her chair. He completely ignored John's raised eyebrow at the action. 

"Hi," she held out a hand with a small smile after she sat between the two men. John took it with a warm smile while Sherlock sat, she saw the questionable look he gave him when her chair was pulled out for her. "I take it he's not very sociable?" She asked, gaining John's attention once more. 

Sherlock grinned softly and inched just a little closer. Nothing noticeable; well, for normal people anyway. But he knew Lydia noticed. She glanced at his direction for only a second before glancing away quickly. She was fidgeting badly now, shifting and bouncing her right leg, and her fingers tapped loudly against the table. 

Sherlock moved quickly, grabbing her tapping hand in his and squeezed lightly, gaining her full attention. He ignored the hitch in her breath and ignored John confused look. He just stared at Lydia intently. 

"What's happened?" He asked softly. 

"Hang on.." John interrupted and turned his gaze from Lydia to Sherlock. "She's the one with the images? She's that client? Not your secret date then?" John joked at the end and gave a smug smile as Sherlock's cheek tinged lightly. He may not be an observational genious, but he knew Sherlock. And that man has it bad. 

"Yes. I am. The client that is and not his date, so I'm sorry John, but that little ammunition you think you have. You don't." Lydia smiled calmly and pulled her hand away from Sherlock's. "Nothing's happened. Not really, just ... Every day without fail I'd get an image. But today; nothing. It's a break and it's not right."

Sherlock flicked his eyes over her, ignoring John completely. She was lying and was about to say so when both his phone and John's vibrated with text alerts. Sherlock read his and lifted his eyes to Lydia, trying to see something new while John slowly tapped away on his phone, mumbling about Mary coming over. 

"Lydia, don't lie to me. My brother has just managed to understand that these images are focused on you. The messages are for you. This is all about you. So tell me; What's. Happened?" Sherlock glared softly. Nothing too much but enough to make the woman next to him break. 

"Fine! But just so you know ... I don't know." Lydia reached into her bag and pulled out a small image. Just small enough to fit into a card envelope. The image was of her at Sherlock's door. The writing was the same; 'Plain Jane but what can she be hiding? The unit will fall and I shall begin. Did you miss me my dear Sherlock? Do you like my gift?' 

"Hmm, maybe not all about you then. Mycroft was wrong." Sherlock mumbled and Lydia stiffened at that moment and jumped up. The chair went flying behind her just as Sherlock hear Mary gasp loudly. 

John looked impossibly confused, verging on angry. This looks like something from Mary's past and Sherlock knows John doesn't like that. 

"You!?" Both girls said at the same time. The tension was building. Both John and Sherlock stood, ready to intervene if needed, but nothing could stop Sherlock. 

"Lydia, you should know who Mary is. After all, she's on the images. You should at least recognise her from them." Sherlock hated being confused. 

"Don't be an idiot Sherlock, it's beneath you. The woman in the images is not clear enough for me to recognise my own commanding officer. The deadly duo we were! What the bloody Hell happened to you Ren..." 

"Stop!!" Mary interrupted before Lydia could finish. "The Shadow."

Sherlock watched as both ladies paled slightly and John looked ready to punch someone as he watched. 

It was at that moment that both girls moved; Mary towards John and Lydia to Sherlock. Dragged them both to the ground just as the window shattered followed by a loud burst of bullets aimed right for them.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shots; ... In more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. You know; Life and all that.

The shots continued for a while, John was counting them. He had to make sure he could at least get them out alive. Their client was yelling at Mary, Mary was grunting her replies, and Sherlock was being forced to remain down by Lydia; while she growled at his wife. All this noise, all this movement was making him lose patience as well as concentration. Gun in his hand he yelled to them all; "SHUT IT!", and moved into a crouch to return fire when he knew the shooter had to reload. He fired instantly, waisting only three bullets before resuming his position behind their make shift baracade (the table).

 

 The scilence that hovered around them was imence and he couldn't help but grin slightly at his wife and his best friend. Well, that was when Sherlock actually took notice, he was too busy sniggering at Lydia. That man was hooked, and he knew it. Mary knew it as well, if the wink she gave him was anything to go by. It was then that more shots rang out and John suddenly realised how much danger they were in. This shooter was just not going to quit.

 

"Any of you psycho's actually have a plan because I'm running low on bullets but I don't think our friend is." John was the voice of reason, the one that always had to bring in the harsh reality. But the look in his wife's eyes as she made contact with an old freind (Apparantly) was something he was not likihng. He saw that look in the eyes of his reflection when he was on the chase with Sherlock. He may not like the idea of it now, but he did feel a pool of warmth and inwardly groaned. "Mary. If we get out of this alive, we have a lot of talking to do." He whispered lightly, with an undertone of anger. He knew Mary would understand. Mary always understood. 

 

"girls. Plan." Sherlock reminded them all as he huddled close, trying to stops his lanky limbs from being cought. That was when Lydia popped herself out of their cover to shuffle along somewhere. Her groan was heard before her body fell, John had to physically yank both Sherlock and Mary back. "She's fine. Flesh wound to the left upper arm, even I can see that. Stop being irrational and let her get on woth it!" 

 

 It was true and he knew it. He watched as Lydia shuffled to some more covering, and he realised what she was doing. From her position she would be able to see the reflection of the shooter but there was no way that she could fire from there! Even if she was a good shot. Not that he knew, nor did he want to find out any time soon. 

 

 "John. Mary needs your gun!" Lydia yelled over the on slaught of more gunshots.

 

"What!? Why!?" It was his gun and he was reluctant to let anyone handle it, even his wife. He remembered her aim yes, but he didn't want to think of her like that. It made things difficult. 

 

"Because I know her accuracy! But I don't know yours!" She yelled over. She sounded impaitient so John gave Mary his gun and moved over to Sherlock, quickly checking him over while his eyes were fixated on Lydia and her bleeding arm. John did not want to see his wife take a kill shot so he tuned everything out. He focused on his best friend and checked him over, ignored Lydia yell over the direction of aim and tried very hard to block out the sound of his gun firing.

 

 The scilence that followed was a shock wave to John and he realised just then that there were actually other people around. He heard whimpers and cries of the general public and he shot his head up quickly.

 

 "Anyone injured!?" he asked, looking oevr the resturant. No one but Lydia answered ...

 

 "Flesh wound that may need some stiches and a bit of a clean but other than that I think I'm ok." 

 

 John sighed softly, assured that the only injured party was Lydia, he made his way over, confident that the threat was long gone. Just then the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance and they sounded like they were coming closer. "Always late," he muttered as he quickly tended to Lydia's qound as best he could. 

 

***

 

It was over an hour before the paramedics and the police fonally let Lydia off of the back of the ambulance, her wound stiched, cleaned and covered and her statement given. She headed over towards the group of people that she may as well call aquantases in her head for now, but there was an added extra. A man in a three piece suit and umberella, a man she would not firget in a hurry and she groaned out load. "Seriously!? You!? Of all people!? They send you!?" Lydia froze in her tracks and glared at the ice man before her. 

 

 "You know Mycroft?" Sherlock had stepped forward, the look on his face was something Lydia placed in her archive to study later. Sherlock actually looked surpeised, shiocked and a little bit disapointed. It was funny. 

 

 "Wait ... Mycroft!?" Lydia sniggered softly. "So 'M' is actually Mycroft hmm. I don't know him well, but he is the smug, arrogant  _PRICK_  that gave us our missions, our objectives. And  _THEN_  left us high and dry in the middle of a war zone, running for our lives from the man known to agents globally as The Shadow." Lydia didn't relaise that she had stepped forward towards the arrogant bastard until she felt Mary squeeze her arm.

 

 "Let it go. At least for now Lyd. The Shadow has found us and intends to rip apart my new life.  _Our_  new life. And he knew enough to know where you would go and how it would affect us all. The diversion worked perefctly and we nearly died because of that. You can deal with Mycroft later, I'm sure Sherlock would love that." Good old Mary (as she's now called). Always knows how to calm her down. Lydia breathed deeply and stepped back a space.

 

 "So the shooter wasn't The Shadow. Obvioius. So, Mary, Lydia. Who is The Shadow and who was the shooter?" Sherlock stepped forward, ignoring his brother completely. Everyone was, even Lydia. Well now she was anyway, but she still noticed when he gave her a small nod and shifted away as she began to speak.

 

 "that shooter was low level. Someone The Shadow could dispose of. And The Shadow is Moriarty. Senior that is. He's most likely pissed at both me and Mary because of something we had to do and he's probably pissed at you Sherlock. Afterall, you did come out alive after meeting with his son. And his son didn't."

 

 For the second time that night, Sherlock looked completely lost, disapointed, shocked and maybe a little bit angry. Either way, Lydia could see that she had once again left him speechless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any mistakes you're going to have to either live with it orlet me know because word is down on my pc.
> 
> I'll repost another chapter as soon as I can. Trust me it gets better and I do know where this is going. It's just that real life is kicking my arse right now so I'm a little off touch.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at updates and I apologise but life has been kicking me when I'm down and that's all I'll say about that. 
> 
> I'm going to try and finish this off elsewhere then upload it all in one go like I should have done at the start. but like I promised, I do know where this is going and actually have notes and brain storms written for it so it shouldn't be too long. It all depends on me and my life at the moment. 
> 
> But anyway ... Here we go and have some ... Stuff.

It was over an hour that Lydia was dragged back to Baker Street with Sherlock. Over an hour of watching the lanky detective pacing across his living room, wearing out the carpet by the looks of things. Over an hour she had sat in the same position, just watching him, staring at him. She had even tried calling out to him a few times but had received no response. Sherlock looked lost in his head. Thinking to hard, Lydia supposed. Well, he did have some sort of shock to his intellect ... Sort of. 

When Lydia was becoming bored herself; bored with watching, bored with day dreaming of the pale, lankiness of detective in front of her, and bored with actually calling his name, she threw a cushion at him, hitting him right in the chest. She had smirked at the small 'oof' noise that had escaped Sherlock upon impact. It was quite funny to watch his features go from 'concentration', to 'confusion' , to 'annoyed' in the matter of two seconds. Sherlock may deem emotions a weakness in his line of work and he may be able to mask certain things perfectly, but when caught unaware, his face was the most expressive she had ever seen. It sparked something within her that will have to wait.

"Stop pacing. Stop thinking. Just ask the damn bloody questions!", she spoke in an annoyed tone with a gentle tease underlining it. Sherlock just huffed and flopped down in his seat. He looked like such a child, Lydia had to stop herself from laughing. 

"Fine." Sherlock had actually crossed his arms and even refused to look her in the eye properly. it was quite amusing. "You know my brother, obviously. He was your boss? Yes? Of course he was ..." He waved a hand, ignoring Lydia as she began to open her mouth to explain. she thought it best to shut up and listen. Then explain when he had finished rambling a mile a bloody minute ... "The Shadow must have been someone you were supposed to target. Obviously with the woman we now know as Mary. Something happened and you both had to run. He sent his only son after you. Jim. He must have gotten distracted, because of me. But The Shadow; Jim's father. Never forgot. Now he's spotted you and Mary, he's after revenge. What is it that you didn't do back then? What happened to make you run? What was so bad that you had to change everything about yourselves and vanish?" 

Sherlock was now looking Lydia in the eye, his own flashing with excitement and interest. Lydia just smiled and leaned back slightly. "I guess some of that makes sense to you, but honestly? Jim was already posted in London and watching over most of the criminal empire on this side of the ocean. Me and Mary do have a past but I don't think I should divulge too much of hers without her permission." This time it was Lydia that spoke, her tone drooping slightly as she slipped into her own past, but the only part that mattered. "Me and her, we were set up together. We were given different missions by an anonymous source. All we understood was that 'M' was the leader of the Secret Service and the MI5 and 6, and me and Mary were the go to girls when things got too much. When they couldn't send anyone else, they sent us. Either that meant we were the best or that we were dispensable, I don't know. And I will not like to know. All i know is that it was .. Fun. The adrenaline and the danger. I felt alive." Lydia paused for a breath and smiled slightly.

"Anyway, we had received a mission that was beyond dangerous. It was bigger than either of us had ever come across. We had to get in deep and uncover the location, the identification and any other information we could gather, on someone who had code named themselves, 'The Shadow'. As we delved in deeper, we understood the danger that was behind this but we continued on, passing back Intel to 'M' and his people, telling them everything we knew as and when we knew it. The thing was, we got caught quicker than expected and because no one but 'M' and his closest people knew where we were and what was truely going on, they couldn't send in a rescue team. We had to get out ourselves. Mary, however, thought it would be a good idea to just let them take us, just so we could finally see The Shadow and shed some light onto his identity. And we did. Sir James Moriarty Senior. He gave us this big boast about how big his network was, how his only son was doing his best to get the name feared and how the world will burn by their hands. Little to say we had had enough. Mary got free, helped me and we ran. We sent out the last of the information we had and we disappeared. As soon as we could we separated. Last I heard, the woman I learned with, worked with and practically grew up with, was dead. Then I started getting these images and I knew I had to come to you. I had read john's blog and understood you could help me ... And here we are."

Lydia stopped, took a deep breath and turned to look at Sherlock instead of the ceiling. Sherlock look entranced. His lip twitched and he had leaned forward against his chair, his hands pressed, prayer-like, beneath his chin and his eyes glistened. All Lydia could think of was a computer that was 'processing' and she couldn't help but giggle. "I'll leave you to it. I'm going to pinch your shower." With that, Lydia rose slowly and went for that much needed shower, leaving Sherlock in the throws of his Mind Palace.


	10. Chapter 10

Sherlock finally came back to the real world, as it where. Finally sorting through his data in his mind palace and coming to terms with the fact that everything he tried to gain over the years was for nothing. Well, not exactly for nothing, he has destroyed half of what this so called shadow had built. Sherlock has now also came to terms with the fact that his older brother had lied to him for years. He didn't like it and he will let his brother feel his anger, his .. Hurt .. Not that he would ever admit that he was hurt. No. That would mean he felt sentiment for his brother. Sherlock knew that they both felt something for each other, they were family after all, but they did not admit to it. Neither would show any weakness to the other. It was an endless battle between them, and this .. This new information, this new data .. This made Sherlock's ammunition better than before. He will let his brother feel his anger after he has been to empty his bladder, he was sure he is forgetting something, but he can't quite concentrate on that now, his bladder was full to bursting.

 

it wasn't until he had the bathroom door open that he registered the sound of running water and the sound of female humming. It wasn't until his eyes fell upon the naked form of Lydia that he actually remembered that there was someone other than himself in the flat. It wasn't until he froze on the spot, staring wide eyed and face flushed, when he remembered she must have told him. She must have mentioned something when he had started to process the information she had given him. That was the final thought before everything had frozen. He was staring. He knew he was. but he didn't actually know where to look. No, Lydia was not the first naked woman he had set eyes on, but this was different. His body fell under the spell of wet skin, as pale as he was, with bumps and .. Well .. She was defiantly a woman. 

 

Sherlock mentally shrugged himself, trying to restart his brain. She was speaking to him and again, it wasn't registered. But when he had shaken himself he had noticed the water was turned off and Lydia was standing there in all her naked glory. Smirking and giggling like a teenager. "Oh .." Was all he said before he ran out of the bathroom, down the stairs and out of 221 quicker than lightening. It was almost like there was something interesting finally going on. Not that he didn't have a clue on what to do. he just ran. He followed his body's instincts. His body's direction. His body's impulse. That never happens! Not to Sherlock Holmes. What was wrong with him!? Why couldn't he focus on the beautiful young woman, that had stood before him, naked and fleshy and wet ... 

He had finally stopped walking and was about to turn back when he felt a sting in his neck. He reached up to the point and instead of finding a bee, or a wasp ... he found a sedative dart. "Oh .." He felt it in his system now. Now that he knew it was there. He felt sick, tired and the floor was coming up to meet his face. It must have been a strong one, Sherlock thought as he hugged the pavement. he also thought that at least his bladder felt empty.

**

Back at the Watson household, Mary and John were just staring at each other, Sherly standing behind the door, just watching. Her parents never argued around her, they just glared daggers at each other and it didn't feel right with her. Sherly saw her mother's shoulders sag and she had reached for Sherly's coat and bag. Her mother turned to her; "Nana Hudson is going to take you to the sea side for a few days. You'll be staying with her sister. You like that." Her mother grinned, and Sherly felt better. she ran to hug her parents tight. She may like the sea side, but it felt like there was a dark cloud above her parents and they wanted her out of the way before the thunder started. They knew Sherly hated a thunder storm. 

\--

Once Sherly was safely packed into the sleek black car, seated beside a Mrs Hudson, John could breath easily. He was still angry at his wife. But he had asked for this yes? He had told her once that Mary's past was exactly that. The past. So when it comes up to bite them all in the arse, he was sure he had asked for it. But he also still had the right to be pissed off about it. 

"Mary!" He called out once he was back in his home. "You have some explaining to do. And do it quickly!" He stood in the living room, his back near the exit as he stared down his wife. He saw the glistening of unshed tears, the slight tremor of fear in her stance. She looked defeated but John was still angry. He was angry that his wife had been put in danger. he was angry at himself. And he was angry at the world. But he needed to calm down, and he needed to know.

"It's from before." Mary started. "Simple version; we had to keep an eye on someone who was big in the criminal world, dangerous and deadly. He caught us out and we had to run. It was better if we split up and because of who we were, who he knew us to be, I thought it best that I died and became someone new. It worked well. It really did. I have never lied to you, you know that. You didn't want to know.." She spoke quickly, her body straightening, her arms coming around to hug herself. 

John waned to hold her. If she was anything like he thought , and the fact that she was scared, he knew this could be bad. but he didn't. he couldn't. His body was too stressed, too tense. He didn't want to explode.

"Who was he?" He asked, forcing his voice to calm down.

"Moriarty. Senior. Jim was his son and ..." Mary didn't get to finish. As soon as John heard the name Moriarty he had paled and rushed out, muttering about Sherlock and trouble. 

he had to make sure Sherlock was alright. If this was Moriarty, the father, the head of the web, then they were all in deep shit. Especially Sherlock. John did not want to lose his best friend again. 

He ignored his wife as he ran down the street, trying to hail a cab. He was out of sight of his street, his wife and his neighbours when something hit him in the back of the head. Hard. He reached his left hand up to the pain, and it came away covered in blood. He turned to face his attacker and saw the butt of a gun come down on his head again, colliding with his forehead. His world went black as he thought of his wife, his child and his best friend.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PAIN!!

Lydia stared wide eyed at the space where Sherlock had fled. She shrugged her shoulders and moved to dry herself off and dress into one of his shirts and trousers. It was lucky she was practically the same build, maybe slightly smaller. The clothes gave her a little breathing space and the trousers hung snugly at her hips. It was at this point her phone vibrated with a text ...

Isn't he pretty.  
Come and play Mistress dear  
This is where -TS

 

Below was a picture of a bound, topless, unconscious Sherlock. Her eyes widened and she was rushing about, sending a text to Mycroft along the way. She needed picking up and she needed her toys. The Shadow was kind enough to text along the address. It wasn't long before Lydia was on her way to Mycroft's MI6 head quarters in London. 

**

Mary was pacing, biting at her nails. This was a bad sign. The Shadow was back and he knew her life now. It won't be pretty. She was about to grab her coat when her phone signalled a text.

He looks so lovely in red.  
Come and play Mother dear,  
You know where -TS

The picture below the text was of John, and Mary growled. Her husband was unconscious, bleeding from a head injury. They had dared hurt what was hers! she growled and fired a text off to Mycroft, explaining that she needed picking up too. Obviously if John was under The Shadow's hold, then so was Sherlock. Her unit. her unit is falling apart, slowly. Just as he had promised. Well, she would not let that happen. Not again. 

 

***

It was a long hour when Mary and Lydia where finally kitted up and sent on their way. They had the promise of back up this time but only when called for. Mycroft had told them that he had wanted his brother out alive. No questions asked. Mary had glared at this and Lydia just rolled her eyes, pushing Mother Bear out of the building and on the route. It had been a long time since they had used their nicknames. Mary was Mother Bear because she was older and always looking out for Lydia. Lydia was The Mistress, simply because she used her body to gain information. It was easy for her. She was into some of the things their marks were into. It was simple. 

Now though, Mother Bear and The Mistress were on the war path. Their unit was under attack and was injured. Their marks would not come out alive. Even if it killed them.

***

Sherlock was the first to wake, his head thumping due to the drugs that had been injected into him. He saw his best friend opposite him and groaned out loud. John looked dead. He was pale, there was dry blood forming around the hair line. It was only by the rise and fall of his chest that Sherlock knew his friend was alive. 

John groaned then and tried to lift his head up; "Sh'rlo'" He mumbled, his eyes squinting against the pain he must be feeling.

"John." Sherlock slurred. God he felt heavy. He just hoped the girls would hurry up. 

"Boys. Finally." An Irish tilt rang out through the room. It was so freakishly familiar that both Sherlock and John turned towards the sound. But what they saw was not how they had thought. But the man facing them was so obviously the father of Jim. Jim was a spitting double of his father. With less wrinkles and less grey hair, Sherlock thought and sniggered. "Oi!" The Shadow slapped the smirk from Sherlock's face, causing John to slur abuse. 

"Well. Looks like I'm going to have to teach you pets a lesson in respect and such." The man grinned like a shark and made Sherlock's blood run cold. At the snap of The Shadow's fingers, all Sherlock felt was pain. 

***

The girls came upto the address and split up. They had a perfect plan and they had to execute it perfectly. They could not afford to lose. Mary entered the building slowly, feeling so uneasy about the lack of security. She was about to call Lydia when she heard it. It was unmistakable. Her John. Yelling, screaming, so much pain. Everything had clouded over and she was running toward the sound before she even realised what she was doing. It was a moment later that she realised the trap for what it was, but her husband, the love of her life, her very soul, a part of her family was in so much pain she had to get to him. Fuck the consequences. 

Mary had burst through the door, gun raised and aimed it toward the one who held the electric switches against the chairs both Sherlock and John were sat on and fired without a thought. she didn't care about herself in that moment. She needed John's pain to stop. Any more electrical current through his body could have caused a heart attack. 

Mary then turned to The Shadow, the smug, smiling bastard who dared hurt her unit. She aimed again and before she could fire, there was a cold metal feeling pressed against the back of her head. She sighed and surrendered to her fate, dropping the gun and made eye contact with John and expressed her apologies.

She saw both John and Sherlock struggle, John was yelling and she even saw the tears. She had to close her eyes. She didn't want him to see the life drain from her.

"Good bye darling.." She heard The Shadow say.

And then she heard the most terrifying sounds. A gun shot. So close to her. John and Sherlock screamed in emotional pain.


	12. Chapter 12

Lydia knew what she had to do, she knew her part from heart and she was pretty damn good. She entered the building that was close to the one which held her new friend (Sherlock) and her old Mother In Arms. The case that she had brought with her made itself known to the empty build as she dropped it on the floor. It was The Shadows fault that he had not had this building secured, even if it was at quite a distance away, he should not underestimate her. He did that last time and he had lost most of his men, and woman for that matter, because of it. 

Lydia opened the bag that she dropped and got out her favourite toy. An enhanced sniper rifle. With this bad boy she could shoot at impossible distances and no one would be any wiser. And this property she had found herself in was at such the position that she could see what was going on.

She had set herself up near an open window and looked through the magnified peep-hole against her rifle. She zoomed in and the building just on the horizon came into view, as clear as if it was right in front of her. Lydia was glad that The Shadow made yet another mistake. He had the boys in his own, personal and private address. His grounds surrounded by trees on the other side and nothing but fields on the side facing Lydia. It would make for an excellent shot. And another mistake, The Shadow had the boys in his favourite, all window room. He though he was safe like that? he had underestimated them again. 

As Lydia focused her aim, she saw Mary in her predicament. looked like mother Bear instantly forgotten everything when she heard her husband in pain. Lydia knew that her partner had finally mellowed out and changed. It made her grin as she focused back on The Shadow. Just as the man behind Mary was about to shoot, Lydia shot first. One after the other. Not hanging around to see if they had fallen for she knew her firing had found their marks. Lydia just had to make sure Mary was safe enough to get the boys out and she wanted to make sure that each and every men in the building was down. It was a blood bath by the time Lydia had finished, packed up and headed on her way to meet the boys at the hospital.

The Shadow  
His men  
All Fallen.  
Boys and Mary need picking up.  
Meet you at the hospital, they all  
Look badly beaten and emotionally  
Drained. -Lydia

She fired the text and waited for her pick up. At long last The shadow had fallen. Moriarty had finally fallen. His empire will crumble and Mary can live in a pain free life. Lydia, however .. Well, she'll say goodbye and .. Well, go where ever her feet take her.

 

***

 

Mary flinched when she heard the shot. And then another. And another. She opened her eyes and watched. Each and ever men, and woman, in the room was falling. A bullet through their eyes, chest and any kill shot available. She dared not move. She stood in stunned silence as she watched. Both her boys quiet and open mouthed just as she was. it was then that the plan came back to her. She was supposed to search for the boys, take out any obstacles and free them while Lydia let lose her hell on those that Mary had missed. Well, at least Mary found the boys and she smiled as she understood what Lydia was doing. Lydia had taken everything into her hands and let lose a whole lot of anger and frustration out on the hidden minions. Lydia was allowing Mary to live her new life, danger free. Well, that is if John still wanted her.

"John!" She cried once the rain of bullets had ended and she rushed to her husband and carefully freed him from his bindings. She helped him off of the chair and to the floor and held him gently. "John?" She whispered and watched her husband's face light up into a grin. She laugh with relief. "Forgive me?"

"Always." John replied, his voice broken and shaken with unshed tears and he slipped back into unconciuosness. It was good for him and Mary gently let him go, moving to also release Sherlock. "Attraction at first sight is a true thing." She spoke calmly as she released Sherlock and also lowered him to the floor. "She'll come and say her goodbyes and she will probably leave. Don't let her go." Mary whispered as Sherlock also slipped into the darkness with a thank you on his lips.


	13. THE END

Sherlock and John were in the hospital for three weeks. It wasn't all bad on Sherlock's part. He had managed to get Lydia to stay with him and she had brought her handcuffs in to keep the boredom at bay. 

Sherlock was in the room on his own, private and almost sound proof, which was a good thing really. Lydia was a devil with a whip. He couldn't believe how much his cock had leaked during his hospital stay. He felt like a horny teenager.

Especially on the day he was finally deemed fit enough to go home. He had a smug smile on his face and John and Mary had chuckled as they bid them goodbye for the day. They knew that Sherlock was in for a welcome home. 

\--

Sherlock allowed himself into his flat. His quiet flat. Nothing out of place and no-one home it seemed. His heart dropped as he looked around the living room. He had at least expected Mrs Husdon. 

"She's at her sisters with Sherly. this place is ours, and ours alone. For now." Lydia had came out from no where and Sherlock actually jumped. He turned to face where she was and saw her, leaning against the frame of his bedroom. She was wearing a tight fitting corset that hugged her figure. She did look beautiful in red. Her legs were bare, her woman hood was on show, freshly waxed and Sherlock felt his interest in his own trousers. He made his way to her, eyes raking over every inch of her.

She had the red leather whip bending in her hands as she stood straighter, legs apart slightly. Once Sherlock was close enough, Lydia quickly placed the whip against his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

"You mentioned to me in the hospital that you would like to be in control. Just once. With me. This is your lucky day. I am feeling quite submissive today." Lydia had smirked and stepped forward and placed Sherlock's whip in his palm. 

Oh how he loved this. Especially when Lydia rested on her knees before him, looking up to him. "May I sir?" She whispered lightly, hands rising towards his zip. Sherlock licked his lips and nodded his head only once. She could have this, for now.

He felt her fingers stroke him gently as she let his manhood lose. he groaned at the freedom, it was getting tight in his trousers. Then as quickly as the cool air hit his strained cock, it was engulfed in wet warmth and he moaned. One hand tightened around the whip, the other flew to Lydia's hair and held on tight as she began to move her lips over his aching member.

He hissed and moaned, especially when Lydia gave a strong suck and a long moan around him. He was getting close and he can't finish. Not yet. although he felt amazing, he had to end her talent. He brought the whip against her exposed arse cheek, quick and fast. "Stop!" He yelled as the whip connected to skin and she did. god she look beautiful as he watched her slide off of him. "Bedroom. Now," He growled with arousal. This night will last and he will show her who the boss is now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waheyy!! x


End file.
